


be your house and home

by deeppainpizza



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Inexperience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-11 02:38:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15305568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deeppainpizza/pseuds/deeppainpizza
Summary: Yuri spreads two fingers apart to safely look at Victor and lifts his palms up enough to speak more clearly. “You say that, but you're still laughing.”“OK, I am, but Ipromiseit's not at you.” Victor’s attitude shifts, turning into something softer as he leans forward to leave light little kisses on Yuri’s knuckles. “On my soul.”





	1. one

“I'm not laughing at you,” Victor says. While laughing. Yuri presses his hands more firmly over his burning face, tries to think of how to salvage the situation, but his pulse is thundering, pounding against his throat and in his head, and, truthfully, he feels incredible and he'd like to do it twenty more times tonight, but he’s managed to make a fool of himself within ten minutes. Victor knows he doesn't have experience and it’s their first time doing _something_ , but still...

Yuri spreads two fingers apart to safely look at Victor and lifts his palms up enough to speak more clearly. “You say that, but you're still laughing.”

“OK, I am, but I _promise_ it's not at you.” Victor’s attitude shifts, turning into something softer as he leans forward to leave light little kisses on Yuri’s knuckles. “On my soul.”

Yuri is about to accuse him of having sold his soul years ago for his good looks and skating ability, but Victor’s fingers clasp around his wrists and pull his hands away, just to kiss Yuri on the mouth as soon as he's able. Yuri gives in easily, kissing back to match his pace, because embarrassment aside, this is what he really wants. He's still breathing hard – exhausting in a way that's different than skating – and Victor, as always, is almost overwhelming as he bites into Yuri’s bottom lip.

“Flattered, happy,” Victor corrects, licking over the spot he sunk his teeth into, “Not laughing.”

Well, that's… better, Yuri guesses, but Victor lets go of one wrist and, instead, his hand wraps around Yuri’s soft, still–sensitive cock and when he inhales sharply, so does Victor.

“I don't care how easily you come. I think I like it, actually. The real question is,” Victor’s voice is lower and without his earlier amusement as his fingers lightly stroke him, “can you go again?”

Yuri’s already twisting, rolling his hips up into his hand – it's just a moment too soon, but he doesn't mind, his nerves still electric – and grabs Victor by the back of his head to bruise his lips, give him his answer that way. Victor hums, as much satisfaction as it is interest, and Yuri runs the tip of his tongue along the underside of his, then asks, “How many times do you want?”

It's both a genuine question and a challenge, one that Victor takes readily, because he groans – just under his breath and quiet in a way Yuri wouldn't have expected before tonight – and slots his cock against Yuri’s, taking both of them into his hands, and grinds his hips forward. He moves so easily from the slickness still clinging to Yuri and mutters a little “wow” to himself; Yuri can already see himself blushing up to his ears the next time Victor unthinkingly uses the same tone toward some new food or tourist attraction.

“You–” Victor’s words are finally developing some tension, which would be a relief if his eyes weren't embarrassingly trained on the way the heads of their cocks push out of his fist, and Yuri still isn't fully hard, but he absolutely doesn't want him to stop and Victor doesn't seem to mind, “You say things like that, but you think you're not sexy?”

Maybe it's not dirty talk that's in smutty novels, but his words seem to have done something for Victor. Shockingly. Somehow. He really doesn't have the experience to know what to say or how to say it or even the things he'd like to hear himself, but Victor’s warm to his touch and his breaths are coming quicker and it's Yuri’s fault.

It's his fault.

Yuri smiles, kissing Victor’s jaw. He could get more confident, find some creativity and try to drive Victor over the edge, but he gets shy about it, a little giddy. He mutters, “Maybe a little,” because that's true, at least. He knows what he looks like during _Eros_ , he has the capability, but getting Victor to drop his personality seems to be a different level of “sexy” entirely, yet he seems to be reaching it.

“More than that, Yuri,” Victor huffs, biting into his own lip, and Yuri can feel Victor’s cock pulse when he ends on his name.

_Oh_ , Yuri thinks, and decides to take a chance.

“Keep saying my name,” he manages to keep it from sounding like a question, which was his main concern, but it does the trick; Victor’s hips buck suddenly and he complies, repeating himself right away and again after that, and Yuri bites into the crook of his neck, listening to the way his accent keeps curling around his name, how light it sounds even when he's like this, and Victor’s rhythm suffers, speeding up to something more erratic, but his grip around them tightens. Without second thought, Yuri digs his fingers into his hips briefly before he moves to grab his ass instead and help guide his hips – and it's only a few breaths more until Victor gasps out, spilling over his hand as he tries to quiet his moan from behind tightly closed lips.

Almost immediately after, Victor buries his nose in Yuri’s hair and Yuri, not sure what to do with his hands, kneads small circles into Victor’s hips with his thumbs. “We’re even, then,” he mumbles after a moment, heavy and sated, and Yuri likes that tone.

“Well, I might be ready to go again now, actually,” Yuri half–jokes; honestly, he needs to relax for a minute or two, let the sensations Victor was drawing out pass, then he could be ready. It would be more difficult not to be after seeing Victor like that (for _him_ , he reminds himself).

Victor sighs, exasperated. “Mercy, Yuri…”

“You’re– you're welcome,” Yuri stutters, unsure why he's being thanked, but Victor goes still before pulling back.

“What?” He looks confused for a full second before he grins, “No– mercy, as in ‘have mercy.’ Not… not _merci_.”

“Oh,” Yuri mumbles, “I thought… maybe your pronunciation was off…”

Victor laughs again, breathy and goodhearted, and while Yuri is fully aware it's absolutely at him this time, he could let himself be embarrassed more in the future if it meant hearing him sound like that.


	2. two

Victor has been more than okay with taking it slow while Yuri gets over his nervousness in bed. He thought it might be something of an inconvenience, that Victor might whine about wanting more, but he seems oddly content just to have Yuri in his bed and to go as far as Yuri can muster (which, so far, has been varying based on his mood or how the wind blows that day).

They've fooled around before, a few times now, and Yuri is steadily getting to the point where his mental block is lowering and he's just enjoying it instead of wondering if he's doing something right. Turns out, Victor doesn't really care how he's doing it. He's happy with Yuri’s hands on him.

“Sorry about that… again...” Yuri half–laughs, half–groans one night after he had accidentally bit Victor’s tongue instead of his lip. Victor chuckled and moved on during the moment, but now, sticky with sweat and relaxing afterward, Yuri still feels like maybe he should be better at kissing by now.

Victor, laying on his side next to him, laughs harder now that the energy in the room isn't sexually–charged.

“I told you it was fine,” Victor’s expression is bright as he brushes Yuri’s hair out of his face. “Sex is clumsy, sometimes. It's not a big deal.”

“Yeah, and you have a whole long line of history to base that off of, with evidence that it's normal. I have you and my memories of biting your tongue.”

“And when you bit my nipple too hard. It seems you have a problem with teeth, Yuri–”

“Don't remind me!” Yuri yells, moving to smush his hand over Victor’s mouth as he laughs, and he doesn't let go until Victor kisses his palm, apologetic although he certainly doesn’t mean it.

“I don't mind at all,” He emphasizes, taking Yuri’s hand to kiss the inside of his wrist instead, then laughs again. “Besides, what's with that word choice? Just how many people do you think I've been with?”

Yuri goes rigid and Victor’s expression changes, some mix of confusion and amusement. Yuri hates how apparently transparent he can be when Victor is focused on him.

“I'm sure you’re wrong, but tell me anyway.”

“I don't know.” Yuri responds, looking at the ceiling and very much away from Victor’s curious gaze. “Lots.”

“And how many is ‘lots’ to Yuri Katsuki?” Victor snorts, nosing under his jaw. “Give me a number.”

“Too many to count.” Yuri reminds himself that that isn't a number, then forces out, “Over a hundred?”

“What?” Victor laughs in a burst, suddenly and incredulously, and Yuri blushes and looks more intensely at the little line of a spiderweb he can see in the corner. “Yuri, are you serious? How much energy have you wasted on this line of thought?”

 _A lot,_  Yuri thinks, then says, “Not _that_ much, I just think about how much experience you have in comparison to me and… besides, you're a celebrity! You're Victor Nikiforov.”

“And?”

“People are always talking about who you are or aren't dating, everyone likes you, you're really friendly… you could date anyone you wanted.”

“Which I am,” Victor reminds him, then laughs again, softer. “You realize those are paparazzi and they make up stories out of nothing, right? There was one time I went to get a coffee with bedhead and three separate websites tried to figure out who I spent the night with. Or alluded to it. For the record, I spent the night before alone.”

“Still!” Yuri tries, because regardless of what Victor says, he has – or had – the reputation of being a desirable bachelor. His relationship status is worthy news to some people.

“Yuri.” Victor says in the stern tone that makes Yuri flinch just slightly, on and off the ice. “Do you want to know how many people I have actually been with?”

“Will it make me miserable?” Yuri laughs, just a hint of self–degradation.

“I don't think so.”

“Will it make me feel better?”

“I do think so, despite the shock at first. It's certainly less than ‘hundreds.’”

“O–Okay,” Yuri breathes. Victor has gotten better at navigating through his anxiety and while he's mildly terrified, he wants to trust that he won't drop a bombshell on him.

“It's– wait, are we counting things like what _we’ve_ done so far or only…” Victor seems to forget the word in English and, after a few seconds pause, he makes a circle with his finger and thumb, then pushes his other index finger into the ring. Yuri shrieks – as quietly as possible not to wake up anyone else – and pushes his hands away.

“Both! We're counting both!”

“Okay!” Victor confirms, accepting that his crude communication was understood, then seems to reconsider his estimation. “Thirty? Now, before you make a face–” Yuri must already be making the face Victor is referring to, because Victor pulls at his cheeks as he corrects him. “It sounds like a lot, but in ten years, that's about three people a year. Which isn't much.”

It's a lot less than the media suggested he dated, anyway. And less than Yuri would have guessed in his more reasonable moments.

“Oh, just thirty…” Yuri says flatly, although he does feel slightly better. It's mostly an effort to tease Victor back and he's successful, since he develops a little frown.

“Don't tell me you actually feel worse…” Victor’s frown deepens, concerned that his attempt at comfort backfired. “That's low compared to the things I've seen and heard in the circuit… and it isn't like I was in love with any of them…”

Yuri can't let him go on, so his smile cracks and Victor's relief becomes immediately obvious. He mumbles something in Russian against Yuri’s neck as he ducks into it – and based on tone, he thinks it's a half–assed insult in retaliation for tricking him – and Yuri laughs, wrapping his arm around his shoulders.

“No, it does make me feel better,” Yuri admits, grinning softly into his hair. “Way less than hundreds.”

“It's best with you,” Victor says suddenly and Yuri’s entire body goes warm – which Victor notices and chuckles at instantly.

“That’s– we've barely done anything, though–” Yuri fumbles, but Victor just presses closer; Yuri can feel his grin against the crook of his neck.

“We've done enough for me to know that.” He presses a kiss behind his ear before he sits up, resting his weight on his elbow. “You could bite my tongue every time we kissed and it would still be the best.”

“You're–” Yuri’s stumped, honestly. He could be in a room full of people Victor has slept with and it's hard to believe he'd be his favorite, even if they are together now. He understands that emotions go a long way, but there's got to be someone with more talent, who did everything better. “You're just saying that out of obligation.”

Yuri’s laughing and it isn't fake – it really isn't, it's flattered and in good humor – but he doesn't believe him.

“Not at all,” Victor’s reply is serious, not a hint of humor to match Yuri’s. “With you, it isn't even comparable. It's something else entirely.”

Yuri knows when Victor tells the honest truth, when it cuts straight to the heart of the matter and it’s not just a glimpse through a peephole; Victor does it purposely, he never stumbles into situations where the truth slips out.

It's why Yuri finally believes him, heart stuttering in his chest.

“How?” He asks, quieter. He's not interested in the intimate details, but he'd like to know what noticeable differences there are between one–night stands with people who are good at what they do and sex with someone you love (who sometimes isn't sure how to hold someone else’s cock).

“You know Like A Virgin by Madonna?” Victor asks and Yuri’s curiosity shatters, huffing out a ‘never mind’ as he rolls his eyes – but Victor chuckles, leaning closer to brush his lips against Yuri’s temple. “It's not totally a joke. It's sort of like that. I have the experience, but it disappears as soon as we start. Feels… new, is what I'm getting at.”

 _That makes more sense,_ Yuri thinks, pulling the blankets up to his chin.

“Plus, I know how wild you drive me and that makes it better, because I do have that comparison. I'm normally composed in bed.”

“That isn't the word I would use for you…” Yuri finally says, remembering the varied instances of Victor’s flushed face and his voice cracking while he begs Yuri to do something again and the moans Yuri has had to stifle with his own mouth. Not composed at all.

“I know,” Victor smiles, private in a way only Yuri knows. “So are you still worried that I have some catalog of sex memories from all over the globe with hundreds of men and women that I grade your performance against?”

Yuri blushes again – it sounds stupid when he words it like that – and mumbles, “No.”

Victor seems satisfied with that (or, at least, satisfied enough to move on) and, as he tilts forward to kiss Yuri on the lips, he taunts, “Now, if you could mind the teeth…”

This time, Yuri bites his tongue on purpose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> was clearing out finished works in my old docs and decided these two from a couple years ago were possibly worth posting. ah, the days of practicing smut to peddle...


End file.
